


You can't choose what stays and what fades away

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arguing, College Student Stiles, F/M, Holidays, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wanted to search on his own or to take Lydia instead of any of the weres but Derek insisted.  </p>
<p>He always insisted.</p>
<p>And now they were smack in the middle of a glamoured patch of wolfsbane with Derek ready to claw his own face off.</p>
<p>Or, more likely Stiles', but it sounded slightly better hoping he'd go after his own.</p>
<p>AKA: a 5+1 fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	You can't choose what stays and what fades away

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "stay" at fullmoon_ficlet on LJ. I really like how this turned out!

**01**

It wasn't Stiles' fault.

He just happened to find himself in situations more often that not that were potentially life threatening. 

Always.

_Constantly_.

Stiles clutched at his baseball bat but didn't step back from Derek while he fought for control over his shift. He knew he should probably run, maybe escape to the SUV and call for Scott or _anything_ except to stand there, watching and waiting. But Stiles was paralyzed with indecision and determination to not abandon Derek.

Rumour got back to the pack that there was a new strain of wolfsbane making its way into Beacon Hills and no one liked the sound of it. They got word from packs both north and south of them that said it was one of the more dangerous strains they'd ever seen, that some packs with less cohesive connections were ripped apart and there was bloodshed amongst members. 

Stiles wanted to search on his own or to take Lydia instead of any of the weres but Derek insisted. 

He always insisted.

And now they were smack in the middle of a glamoured patch of wolfsbane with Derek ready to claw his own face off.

Or, more likely Stiles', but it sounded slightly better hoping he'd go after his own.

"Derek," Stiles tried softly, taking one step forward with his bat loosely in both hands. Derek held one hand up and he stopped in his tracks.

" _Don't_!" Derek snarled, voice distorted from his fangs. "Stay back! You've got to get out of here, Stiles!"

Stiles planted his feet and took a deep breath, trying to will his rabbiting heart to slow. 

"No."

"Stiles, please!" Derek looked up at him, pleading. His eyes were blue and he was fighting back the urge to howl and snap but Stiles shook his head. 

"You've come too far to let something like this take you down, Derek," Stiles said softly and slowly. He dropped his bat to the ground, sure his stomach fell with it. 

He called deep within himself and _pulled_ , gathering every bit of magic he could grab until his hands were crackling with a fully formed sphere of energy. He stepped up to Derek's still-outstretched hand and let it rest against his chest.

"I'm staying," Stiles said firmly and reached out before Derek could react and cupped Derek's cheeks with both hands, _shoving_ his spark at him.

Stiles obviously couldn't attest to how it felt on Derek's end but in his own body it felt like a war between his magic and that of the wolfsbane trying to wrest control of Derek's mind from him. He kept his hands on Derek's cheeks, pushed as hard as he could with all he had. 

Everything slowed around them. Derek's hand pressed harder against Stiles or maybe Stiles pushed against Derek but either way later he would find holes in his shirt and claw marks on his chest. The sound of the fight between them sounded like a freight train in Stiles' brain, growing louder until it felt like the damn thing ran him over.

The last thing Stiles remembered was someone screaming his name.

***

"... Stiles! ... Stiles, wake up! C'mon, Stilinski we don't have all day!"

Stiles felt like he was dragging himself out of the pit of darkness before he even opened his eyes, then immediately shut them because it was too damn bright.

Someone was rubbing his arm while his other hand was being held tightly. He felt a tug on his fingers. "Open your eyes, Stiles."

He tried again, squinting blearily. Scott was standing beside him, while Lydia was the one holding his hand. He could see Deaton across the room checking out Derek who was sitting up and looking none the worse for wear. 

"The wolfsbane?" Stiles asked, voice rough.

"I don't know what the hell happened, man, but you fucking pulverized the shit out the whole patch. We sent Lydia in to be sure when we finally found you guys but it was like the strain was neutralized," Scott explained. "What did you do?"

Stiles looked across to Derek who stared at him intently, but his expression was open and unguarded.

"What I could."

**02**

"I don't need a chaperone, you know," Stiles muttered to himself while he jogged down the street for his attempt at a workout. 

Derek trotted beside him in full shift form, easily keeping pace with him.

Someone or something was working their way through Beacon Hills, stalking people with magical properties like Deaton, Morrell, Lydia and Stiles. After Derek found Scott and Stiles playing video games rather than staying vigilant he made Scott swap duties with him and Scott was looking over Lydia instead.

"It's full daylight, man," Stiles continued. "All of the other attacks happened at night. What makes you think the culprit will suddenly change their M.O.?"

Derek snorted and nudged into Stiles' leg gently enough that it wouldn't trip him up but Stiles glared down at him anyway.

Stiles was on his last lap around the simple four-block route he set for himself when a neighbour he spoke to occasionally called out to him from her porch.

"Yoo hoo! Stanisław!"

Stiles stopped abruptly in front of Mrs. Newkirk's house, drawing a soft growl from Derek who ran into Stiles' legs, making him stumble forward a few steps.

"Hi Mrs. Newkirk!" Stiles yelled back brightly, just to annoy Derek more. He opened her gate and walked the path to her so she didn't have to strain her voice. She was at least 80, if not pushing 85 or more. She sometimes gave Stiles the creeps from childhood but he knew he had to grow up sometime.

"Could I trouble you for your help for a moment? I have some boxes in my basement that need to be moved and my son can't make it to town for a few weeks," Mrs. Newkirk said as she stood up shakily, using her cane to balance.

"Of course!" Stiles bounded up the stairs and offered his arm for her to take to lead her into the house.

"I'm sorry, but your dog can't come in. I'm terribly allergic," she said, gesturing to Derek who was almost literally on Stiles' heels.

Stiles turned away from Mrs. Newkirk and grinned at Derek, holding out his free hand. 

"Stay! Staaaay," Stiles taunted, choking back a laugh, knowing he was going to regret this. "Good boy."

Derek bared his teeth to Stiles and growled while keeping his eyes on Mrs. Newkirk.

"I'll be right back," Stiles said over his shoulder as he led his neighbour into her house.

***

"How was I supposed to know she was a crone?" Stiles exclaimed later in the loft, holding a bag of frozen peas to his throbbing head while leaning against the kitchen counter as Derek berated him.

"You could have listened to me!" Derek yelled back, pacing the loft in sweatpants and little else.

"You didn't _say_ anything!" Stiles complained, wincing at the reverb of pain.

"I was _growling_ , you idiot!" 

"You're _always_ growling at me! Even when you're not furry and four-legged!"

"So maybe you should start paying attention," Derek snapped. He sat on the couch and folded his arms, hunching over in on himself. "You could have been killed today, Stiles."

Stiles crossed the room and sat down beside Derek, closer than he intended, but his vision was a little swimmy from being hit over the head by Mrs. Newkirk with a ceremonial bone staff. His arms brushed against Derek's warm, bare ones and their thighs pressed together. Derek didn't move away, though, so Stiles settled in.

"I'm sorry, okay? I've known her since I was a kid. I didn't think she'd be dangerous."

"You never do. Think, that is," Derek replied, voice softer.

"I think I'm pretty happy you were there today. And that my dad won't even care about having to make an excuse for her ... uh, bloody death since you were. Thank you, Derek," Stiles said, nudging Derek's shoulder with his own. Derek seemed to be waiting for this cue because he visibly relaxed and practically sagged back against Stiles for a moment, but then snapped back upright and turned to him, pulling the frozen peas away.

"Let's check out how bad this is and if you need to see Melissa," Derek grumbled, back to his normal self.

Despite the pain as Derek prodded at his scalp gently Stiles smiled.

**03**

The pounding at his door didn't let up for at least ten minutes.

Derek was aware it wouldn't, either, because he knew it was Stiles on the other side. He grit his teeth and gripped his knees, refusing to move from his position on the couch. It was getting dark, shadows casting long across the floor, and he'd barely moved all day. 

"Derek!" Stiles shouted. "I can keep this up all night, you know! It's not like you have neighbours I need to worry about bugging! Not that it would stop me, though. You know that!"

Derek didn't move.

"Hey, do you have a deck of cards in there? Maybe we could play a game of crazy 8's under the door. Or you could send them out and I'll play solitaire. That would keep me occupied out here while I keep _slamming my fucking fist on your fucking door, you stubborn bastard!_ "

Derek curled his lip.

"There's a fire escape to this building, right? I could just come through the skylight, maybe! You'll have to replace it again and I might slice myself to death on the glass but whatever, that's okay, right? Since you're determined to be a grade-A asshole about this!"

Derek didn't think Stiles really would.

He didn't, right?

He wouldn't?

_Stiles_?

Derek was up from his couch in a flash, across the floor and throwing the door open. He was ready to chase after Stiles because yeah, Stiles totally would try to find a fire escape. He'd probably scale the fucking building if he had to.

But there was Stiles, sitting on the floor outside his door, shit-eating grin on his face.

"What's up?" he asked casually.

Derek started to close the door on him again but Stiles shoved his hand out and Derek barely caught it from slamming on his wrist thanks to his werewolf reflexes.

"The only reason why I didn't use my key is because I feel there's respect between us," Stiles said as he scrambled up and inside the loft.

"The only reason you didn't use your key is because I changed the lock," Derek replied flatly.

"Rude!" Stiles exclaimed. "Why would you do that?"

"Leave." Derek crossed his arms and stood in front of Stiles so he couldn't make it any further inside.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, probably a smart ass remark but he caught the blank look on Derek's face and his playful expression faded.

"What's up with you, man?" Stiles asked warily. "Scott said—"

"Scott doesn't know shit."

Stiles blinked. "Okay."

"Leave," Derek repeated. "Stay away from me."

"Look, Scott and Deaton told me about this stupid 'prophecy' or whatever you think you've been cursed with. Never in a billion, trillion years would I ever think you, of all people, would ever believe that kind of bullshit."

"You don't know the first fucking thing about me, Stiles," Derek bit back. He dug for things that he knew would cut the deepest. "You're just some stupid kid who's going to get himself killed playing with things he doesn't understand."

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're gonna go there?'

Derek stared back at Stiles stonily. He could see Stiles gearing up for a fight, that he was determined to convince Derek he was being stupid. Maybe he was.

But if he was going to be the cause of any harm to the rest of the pack he didn't have a choice.

"Fine, I'll leave," Derek said, turning on his heel and marching to his one dresser. He pulled a duffle bag from under his bed while Stiles trailed behind him, watching in confusion.

He started filling it with whatever he could grab, enough to get him through a few days before he figured out where he was going. He just needed to get away from everyone.

_This fucking town_ , he thought.

"Derek!" Stiles exclaimed, stepping forward and grabbing his arm. Derek wrenched back and snarled at Stiles, eyes flashing and fangs bared. Stiles recoiled and stepped back, fear flashing in his own eyes.

When Derek wasn't in control of himself Stiles wasn't scared of him.

But now he was.

Stiles stumbled backwards with his hands up, eyes going from scared to hard in seconds.

"Okay. Okay, fine," Stiles said, nodding. His voice was clipped and low. "If this is what you want I'll leave you alone. I won't come back, you don't have to go."

Derek swallowed hard. "Good."

"When this all turns out to be a big fucking mistake I hope you remember this, Derek: _fuck you_."

Stiles left without bothering to even slam the door behind him.

***

Stiles was right.

Of course. 

A witch was trying to move in on the territory in Beacon Hills to harness the power in the town, not just at the nematon, but in the very earth the town was built on. Breaking up the pack was part of her plan and going after the oldest link to the area, Derek, was key to her plot even if he wasn't the alpha any longer.

The pack took her down and Deaton and Stiles stripped her of her powers, dooming her to a half life as a regular human.

But the damage was done. Stiles refused to have any interaction with Derek beyond the barest of pack-related activities and even then he hardly looked at or spoke to Derek.

A couple years earlier Derek would have felt relieved that finally this annoying kid was giving him a wide berth.

Now it felt like ice in his heart.

**04**

Pack Christmas was a firm tradition now. Everyone brought their gifts to put under the McCall tree even though Scott had his own apartment with Kira. Most of the time everyone rolled out of bed and showed up in their pyjamas if they didn't spend the night there, and brought pillows and blankets.

They spent the day watching the parade on TV, eating everything and being loud and obnoxious.

Stiles wouldn't have it any other way.

He half expected his dad to propose to Melissa that year, the way his dad was being squirrely since he arrived in town from school. Turned out to be an announcement that they were going to move in together in the new year, in a new house for both of them. Stiles understood why they wanted to find a place to start over together, even if it knocked the wind out of him a little to think the place he grew up, where his mom lived, was going to be sold.

But he got it.

And if anything it gave him a lot to think about.

Scott commented on how quiet he'd been during his break on the ride to Derek's for New Year's. 

"Got a lot on my mind, you know?" Stiles replied with a wry smile and Scott nodded because he did know. They were already brothers in every way but name anyway.

"Yeah, buddy," Scott said softly and gave him a fist bump.

***

"To a new start," Stiles said to himself tipping is glass to the stars on Derek's fire escape. As the night crept on he started to feel like the crowd was too much for him and he retreated, needing some time to himself.

"Your version of howling at the moon?" 

Stiles looked back at the window he came out of and saw Derek standing there, watching him tentatively.

"Kind of," Stiles replied, offering a small smile.

"Mind?" Derek asked, gesturing. Stiles shrugged, a simple thing that felt like a momentous step, if Derek's split-second wide eyed expression was anything to go by.

"How's school?" Derek asked once he was perched on the landing a few feet from the stairs Stiles sat on.

"Kinda dreading next semester because I'm taking two seminars," Stiles sighed.

"Scott said you were going for a double major," Derek said hesitantly, like maybe he wasn't supposed to know.

"Yeah. Wondering if I'm crazy," Stiles laughed.

"If anyone can do it, it's you," Derek replied genuinely and Stiles smiled at him for the first time in months and months.

Felt good. 

Felt even better when Derek smiled back.

Inside the pack started the countdown to midnight but Derek and Stiles stayed where they were. Once they got to one everyone cheered and laughed, exchanging hugs and kisses and letting out a few howls.

Stiles smiled again, up at the night sky and tipped his glass to Derek.

"Happy New Year, Derek."

"Happy New Year, Stiles."

***

A couple days later Stiles was just finishing packing the Jeep for the ride back to Berkeley. He felt a bit more melancholy at going back this time, hugged his dad a little longer before he left for work that morning.

Stiles shut the back window and was going to get in when Derek pulled up in the Toyota. Stiles instantly worried something was wrong.

"What's up?" he asked, reaching for his phone to pull up the digital version of the bestiary.

"Uh, nothing?" Derek replied.

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Derek shook his head. "I knew you were leaving this morning but I wanted to let you know there's a storm coming."

"Like a storm of supernatural badness?" Stiles asked, confused.

Derek chuckled. "No, a regular one. Well, a freak storm, actually. A regular freak storm."

Stiles pulled up his weather app. "Nothing here," he said, showing Derek.

"That's why they call it a freak storm," Derek threw back, flatly. 

Stiles snorted. "I suppose."

"I can feel it, is all. Wanted to make sure you stay safe."

Stiles paused, then smiled softly. "Thanks, Derek."

"Sure," Derek said, ducking his head a bit.

"I'll text you when I get in, okay?"

Derek looked up cautiously. "I'd like that."

"Okay."

"Okay."

**05**

The rest of the pack assured Scott and Derek that they could leave Beacon Hills with John and Melissa to go to Stiles' college graduation.

Yeah, there was a vampire problem happening at the moment, but they were in a holding pattern with the clan on the outskirts of the county and doing nightly patrols. Isaac returned about eight months earlier and between him, Liam, Kira and Malia they were guarding the area well with Deaton's help until Stiles was back to help shore up the magical guards he and Deaton started warding the town with during his junior year.

It was only for a night, Scott reasoned. 

They could handle things for a night, right?

Melissa smacked her own son upside the head at that because that was just begging for trouble, according to her. John called back to Parrish and made him put a couple more deputies on duty and reminded him to instruct everyone to carry holy water with their usual kit.

No one living or working in Beacon Hills ever argued any weird requests like those anymore.

Stiles' graduation ceremony went off without a hitch. Scott and Derek let out little howls when Stiles accepted his diploma with honours, their cries echoing in the large arena while Melissa and John both got misty-eyed.

Stiles was mostly packed up and ready to move home but he was staying for a couple days after his grad to tie up any loose ends. Everyone else was staying in a hotel for the night so Stiles went back to his place to change before they went out to eat. 

Derek's heart thumped wildly in his chest when Stiles hugged him tightly before he ran off to his Jeep and he shoved Scott roughly when he started teasing the older werewolf because he could hear it like the sound of an 808 drum.

A half hour later Derek, Scott, John and Melissa were waiting outside the restaurant for Stiles to arrive. Derek was pacing and getting antsier with each passing second and Scott wasn't much better.

"Something's wrong," Derek finally said out loud, voicing what they all thought.

His cell rang.

It didn't even get through a full ring before he answered.

"What's wrong," Derek growled, threatening to shift then and there. Scott reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, calming him minutely.

_"Derek, something's trying to get into my apartment!"_ Stiles yelled.

"What is it?"

_"I don't know! I have mountain ash across all my entry points and sigils scattered around but they're not going to hold! I don't know what to do!"_

Stiles admitting that made Derek's blood run cold.

"Stay there! Stay inside!" he got out then he dropped his phone, shifting before it hit the ground. He was racing to Stiles' apartment without thinking about it while Melissa and John looked around to make sure no one saw. Scott picked up the discarded phone and kept Stiles on the line while he gave chase after Derek, but no one would be able to catch up to him by this point.

Derek jumped through backyards and raced down alleys to get to Stiles' building as soon as possible while trying to stay discrete, but he didn't care if anyone saw a hulking wolf racing through the city at that point. He climbed a tree outside Stiles' building and jumped through an upper level window in the stairwell, then raced to the fifth floor where Stiles' apartment was.

He could smell them as soon as he was in the hallway, the stench of the dead. Four of them. Four of the vampires from Beacon Hills followed them directly to Stiles. 

Derek let out a furious roar and ran at them at full speed down the hallway. He hit two of them at once, knocking them down and managing to rip the throat of one out right away. The other three jumped on him, biting into whatever they could find and trying to use their strength to break his bones.

Derek literally saw red as his whole face was covered in blood and he could feel it dripping off his claws and soaking into his fur but he kept going, even though he didn't know what was his and what was theirs.

"Werewolf scum," one of the vampires screamed, her shriek echoing through the hall. She managed to get her head to Derek's underside and sank her teeth in, tearing through skin and muscle. Derek felt a sharp burning and he howled, snarling and snapping. He was losing control. 

Distantly he heard Scott howl.

He vaguely heard a door open and his first thought was of Stiles and to scream out to him to run, to be safe and escape, but he was lost as soon as he heard the rumbling.

It sounded like a distant avalanche starting in the mountain tops and racing down, aimed straight at his head as it thundered toward him.

Derek looked up and through his blood-soaked vision saw Stiles chanting just inside his doorway while he held what looked like a ball of white fire in his hands, growing bigger until he couldn't see Stiles' face anymore. 

The last thing he recalled was Stiles crying something and dropping to his knees, slamming his hands down; unleashing the white fire.

Derek felt himself blink out of existence.

***

Derek felt a feather light touch stroke across his cheek and he reached up to bat it away. He felt what he thought were thumbs ease down his face, then hands cup each cheek gently until he had no choice but to open his eyes.

Stiles stared down at him, eyes bright and worried.

He took stock of himself and seemed to be okay. He wasn't sure if he didn't feel any pain because there wasn't any or if Stiles did something to help. He was laid out in Stiles' bed, covered by a thin blanket. He could hear Scott, John and Melissa somewhere else in the apartment

"You okay?" Derek asked. Stiles let out a bark of choked laughter.

"Am _I_ okay? Jesus, Derek!" Stiles' said in a wavery voice before bending down and leaning his head on Derek's bare chest, ear over his heart. Derek cradled his head gently, slowly remembering what the hell happened.

"Shit! The vam—"

"Dead. Three of them were dead before Scott got here and he finished off the last one," Stiles said, voice muffled against his skin.

"What did you do to them?" Derek asked, in awe as he recalled the force behind Stiles' power.

"I think it was a team effort," Stiles replied quietly.

"You're so strong now," Derek marvelled. "When did that happen?"

"I've always been strong, you asshole," Stiles shot back, raising his head to glare at Derek, but his tone was quiet and gentle.

Derek cupped Stiles' cheek and his heart thumped hard again. "Yes, you have been."

**+01**

They skirted around each other for weeks.

Scott kept making eyes at Derek, as if telepathically telling him to go after Stiles.

Isaac sighed at Stiles more than once and told him to "grow a pair" and make a move before everyone else locked them in a room together.

But it was easier than that.

Pack movie night at the renovated loft, Stiles outvoted yet again for what to watch. A quiet night with snacks and popcorn thrown at each other, pillows strewn around the living room area, beer and pop cans everywhere. There was a mess left in the kitchen that Stiles was cleaning up when Derek realized he was still there after everyone else left.

"You don't have to do that," Derek said, stepping up beside him while he wiped down the cupboard and moved dishes into the sink.

"It's no trouble," Stiles replied with a shrug.

Derek reached out and covered Stiles' hand with the dishcloth in it, stopping the motion. He looked up at Derek, amused more than surprised.

Derek tilted Stiles face up by his chin and kissed him, taking his time. Stiles kissed back as he let his free hand rest on Derek's hip. 

When they parted Derek leaned his forehead against Stiles', breathing him in.

"Stay?" He asked.

"Try to stop me," Stiles replied with a grin and kissed him again.


End file.
